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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344061">The Serpent's Secret and the Gold Band</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsyweaver/pseuds/gypsyweaver'>gypsyweaver</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Tale of Crowns and Coins [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Backstory, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Confessions, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has PTSD (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Iblis, God is Present (Good Omens), God is evil, M/M, Marriage, Oaths &amp; Vows, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Service Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:22:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsyweaver/pseuds/gypsyweaver</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a closer examination of the hotel that he and Crowley are staying in, it occurs to Aziraphale that he may have accidentally booked an Air B-n-Beez.</p><p>Crowley has been carrying a secret. He is finally ready to tell Aziraphale how he got his demon name. </p><p>Aziraphale has a surprise of his own.</p><p>I put some smut here. Right in the end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Tale of Crowns and Coins [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Serpent's Secret and the Gold Band</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asanogohan222/gifts">Asanogohan222</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CW: past rape, past torture, god is evil, the rape is not graphic</p><p>This is part 20 of a series, and those parts should be regarded as chapters. Like seriously, go see why Aziraphale has a connection to Beelzebub.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale and Crowley were not staying in a hotel. Not in the modern sense. They were staying in an old shrine to an obscure local goddess, which had been obtained by a private owner, a descendant of one of the original builders, and renovated recently. Quite recently, actually. Aziraphale had found it on Air BnB, and it was lovely. Plus, as this was the grand reopening of the <em>Takadono no Haihōru</em>, Aziraphale had gotten quite the deal on the room.</p><p>The Goddess Suite had been occupied, and contained one more bed than Aziraphale required. He didn’t use a miracle to oust the tourists who had the nicest suite. Instead, he’d chosen the Apple Blossom Suite. It was absolutely beautiful--dark furniture and white walls.</p><p>This shrine was built in a more Western style, almost like a mission. It was stucco over brick, which was more common in Aomori than in other parts of Japan. Aomori had lovely old churches built in the Western style, and a few other brick buildings. Brick construction was necessary that far north. It got very cold there.</p><p>The shrine was arranged in a U-shape around a brick courtyard. The Apple Blossom room was at the southmost tip of the eastern side of the U, directly opposite of the Pearl Moon Suite. The Goddess Suite was a detached building, sitting on its own at the southern edge of the pavilion.</p><p>The gardens that surrounded the old shrine drizzled cherry blossoms, as did the rest of Aomori Province at this time of year. The shrine also boasted an apple grove, which he and Crowley had not yet toured.</p><p>Aziraphale was hesitant to tour that grove now. Aomori Province was famous for its apples. And after hearing Prince Beelzebub speak of their travels...he thought he might know what kind of apples grew out there.</p><p>He took a hard look at the statue welcoming them into the shrine. He had only given the statue a passing glance before, but now he looked. Really looked.</p><p>It was not a standard stone figure of the age that it was carved in. It looked more modern. The pose was not stiff, single hand raised, palm out, in benediction and welcome. No, this statue’s hands were open and out in front of them. And the statue did not stand, but knelt on a plinth that was carved to look like the waves of the ocean. As if the ocean had birthed them to serve the people, which was the legend. There was a metal coin pressed in one palm. (For good fortune, Aziraphale supposed.) She wore a crown, a simple silver circlet engraved in flowers (lilies) and set with stones. And her robes were not flat, but diaphanous, and patterned with flowers and insects. Catnip was planted around the base; the whole temple was planted with catnip. Cats lounged around the statue, on the lip of the florid fountain in the center of the back pavilion, and on the railings and other statues that decorated the temple.</p><p>The eyes of the goddess were set in light blue gemstones, maybe a particularly blue lapis. In that detail, Aziraphale realized that he was staying at a temple of Prince Beelzebub.</p><p>He wondered if Crowley knew.</p><p>The plinth had a plaque, which read <em>Haihōru no Megami</em>. Aziraphale had heard the locals shorten that down to <em>Hae no Megami</em>. Goddess of the High Hall. Goddess of the Flies.</p><p>Crowley definitely knew, if he’d noticed the plaque. But they’d only been at the hotel long enough to check in and drop off their things. And Crowley hadn't said anything.</p><p>Aziraphale practically carried Crowley to the room. <em>Saki</em> was an excellent explanation for Crowley’s discombobulation, if anyone asked. But the staff was Japanese, and so they did not ask. They also did not raise an eyebrow when Aziraphale requested a bottle of their best for the room. And something more filling than popcorn.</p><p>He pulled Crowley from his clothes, and then laid him in the bed. Crowley wore a female corporation for this trip. It was easier for them to travel in most places if one of them looked female. Usually, it was Crowley.</p><p>Crowley stared, blankly, from the bed. Aziraphale had no idea what brought this on. Seeing the Prince and the Archangel was a bit of a surprise, but something must have happened inside of Crowley’s mind that caused his current level of distress.</p><p>Aziraphale had already slipped out of his shoes and into his inside slippers. He’d hung up his overcoat and waistcoat. Down to shirt and trousers, he felt a great deal more comfortable.</p><p>Their food was prompt, and smelled delicious. Aziraphale sent his most effusive compliments to the chef, and sent the chambermaid who delivered their food on her way.</p><p>The <em>ramen</em> bowls were plain white porcelain with blue bands near the lips. They matched the <em>saki</em> set, very elegant in their simplicity.</p><p>He rolled the cart to the side of the bed. The scent of roasted pork, mushrooms, dried apples, and ginger followed the cart. It smelled like the name of the dish, First Breath of Autumn.</p><p>“Crowley, my dear,” he said softly. “Will you eat? It’s <em>ramen</em>, with eggs. And <em>saki</em>.”</p><p>Crowley sat up slowly, legs curled easily under him. “Yeah...that sounds great, angel.”</p><p>They ate in silence. Aziraphale assumed that Crowley was fortifying himself with food for whatever came next.</p><p>Also, with <em>saki</em>. Aziraphale had a single tiny cup, and Crowley had the rest of the pretty clay vessel. There was a crown embossed in the porcelain.</p><p>Goddess of the High Hall. In a region famous for its apples.</p><p>Prince Beelzebub had been busy. Though this place did not reek of infernal miracles. It probably was human-built, human-renovated, human-run, and human-maintained.</p><p>Aziraphale had heard of how Prince Beelzebub tended to run their lands. They did not like their humans to remain idle. So it may have been human hands that brought this place back from the decaying ruin that it was a few scant months prior, but who’s to say it wasn’t infernally guided, this renovation effort?</p><p>But for what purpose?</p><p>When the food was finished, and miracles had been used to clean them, Aziraphale plumped the pillows and laid them against the headboard. The bed was a touch of Western charm in an Eastern building. Heavy wood, carved with flowers and lacquered black, with a heap of pillows and a soft duvet. Above the headboard, flowers bloomed in swirls of colored ink. Apple blossoms, sweet on the branch--two framed rice paper paintings.</p><p>Crowley looked full and replete. He would want sleep soon. And cuddling. But the look on his face...</p><p>Fear and grief. In his travels, through all of human time, Aziraphale had seen many marble statues covering their faces with their hands out of despair. If he could have removed those stone hands, the faces that peered out would have looked like Crowley’s face in the light of the lamps and the weak sun from their west-facing window.</p><p>Aziraphale pushed the cart of dirty dishes into the hall, and returned to the room, locking the door behind him. He drew the shades over the window, thin paper diffusing the sunlight.</p><p>He pulled off the rest of his clothes, and sank into the mattress beside Crowley. Aziraphale gathered him into his arms, pressing his belly into Crowley’s slim back, holding him close and sniffing his scarlet curls.</p><p>“My darling,” he murmured. “My dear, dear boy. I’m here. I’m right here.”</p><p>And Crowley began to sob.</p><p>Aziraphale turned Crowley in his arms so that they were face-to-face, letting Crowley cry into his chest.</p><p>“Crowley, what happened?” Aziraphale asked, stroking his hair.</p><p>“Well, for fucking starters, they left Hell and didn’t tell me. So let’s start there.”</p><p>Prince Beelzebub. Ah. Jealousy flared in the darkest parts of Aziraphale’s heart, where Crowley would never see it. He swallowed it down.</p><p>“Why do you think Prince Beelzebub did that?”</p><p>“Oh, for some <em>noble</em> goddamned reason,” Crowley snarled. “They’ll move mountains for the people that they love.”</p><p>“Well, they are quite close to Gabriel--”</p><p>“I fucking noticed.”</p><p>“Yes, dear. But I was saying that they’ve known each other for a very long time,” Aziraphale explained. “The Prince would be intimately familiar with Heaven’s tactics. If they care for you, which I believe that they did...before...well...”</p><p>“Before I refused to let them destroy the whole world in order to kill themself, yeah, I know.”</p><p>Aziraphale smiled, and it was not a happy smile. It was cold triumph. Crowley had chosen him, chosen life, and the world. Gabriel was welcome to the nihilistic little Prince.</p><p>And the sooner, the better.</p><p>“As I was saying, they cared for you,” Aziraphale continued. “Do you think that Prince Beelzebub would have wanted to watch Heaven torture you--or destroy you--to gain their submission?”</p><p>“No,” Crowley said, weakly.</p><p>“They would have done that to me,” Aziraphale said. “Had they known how dear you are to me, I think they would have made sure that I watched your execution before they subjected me to the flames.”</p><p>“So you think that they knew that Sandalphon would have hurt me to hurt them?”</p><p>“Very likely, yes,” Aziraphale said. “If he’d caught the two of you together.”</p><p>“Bloody hell.”</p><p>“I think Prince Beelzebub must be like me...I mean, if they caught your eye.” It pained Aziraphale to say it, but it had to be said. “They could probably bear up under any suffering if it was for you. They wouldn’t try to get away. They would grit their teeth and do as they were told. No matter how vile.”</p><p>Crowley made a noncommittal sound.</p><p>“So they walked alone from Ekron on.”</p><p>“They built this fucking place. It reeks of them,” Crowley said. "Just noticed, on the way in..."</p><p>“Did you want to stay somewhere else?”</p><p>“Nah, their places are always the nicest...” He paused. “Just ticks me off, is all.”</p><p>“Well, this temple was built in the late 1800’s--replacing an older one that crumbled. What were you doing then?”</p><p>“I was in Paris...trying to apologize...”</p><p>“To me?”</p><p>“To Beelzebub. Thought I’d buggered things with you, so I decided to try my luck with them. I created Art Nouveau. They <em>loved</em> it.” Crowley sighed. “They didn’t mention Japan, though.”</p><p>“Ah.” It hurt Aziraphale that Crowley would turn to another so quickly, but he wasn’t going to show it. Those were desperate days for both himself and Crowley. “I’m sure they had a reason.”</p><p>“Sure, angel.”</p><p>“This isn’t really about Prince Beelzebub, is it, dearest?” Aziraphale asked. “You wanted them to give Gabriel a chance. Whatever was between the two of you...it isn’t there anymore. You’re upset about something else, aren’t you?”</p><p>Crowley went completely limp in Aziraphale’s arms.</p><p>Now, Aziraphale was getting somewhere. “What is it, my darling boy?”</p><p>“Angel...would you...would you have wanted me...” He swallowed hard. “Would you have wanted me if you’d known...I wasn’t ‘fresh’?”</p><p>He’d slept with his boss? Aziraphale would have never guessed it. Prince Beelzebub certainly didn’t seem the type. Crowley did, though. His love burned brightly. His passion did, as well.</p><p>“I would have loved you if you’d had a million lovers,” Aziraphale said. “Is that what has you so upset? Because you and Prince Beelzebub--”</p><p>“No. It wasn’t Beelzebub. They wouldn’t. They were too broken,” Crowley said. “Fuck me, Aziraphale. They loved me. They loved me to pieces, but all that physical stuff--” Crowley waved a dismissive hand. “No, they...they couldn’t. Between Eden and Ekron...ugh...” He shuddered.</p><p>“Eden?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah. They were Raphael’s student. I guess. I mean, ‘student’ would be the best word. Probably.”</p><p>Aziraphale startled at that information. “Raphael’s first student?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Ah, the yardstick against which none of us measured up,” he said, relaxing around Crowley. “He spoke of them CONSTANTLY. His perfect student, stolen from him. The rest of us but poor imitations of their greatness.”</p><p>Crowley groaned. “That psychotic freak. He didn’t do anything...weird...to you? Did he?”</p><p>“With Raphael, you’d have to be more specific.”</p><p>Crowley disentangled himself from Aziraphale, sat up and met his eyes. His hand cupped Aziraphale’s cheek. “I’m asking...did he rape you, angel?”</p><p>“Rape? No.” Aziraphale looked away from those penetrating golden eyes. “I think it crossed his mind...but...I pretended that I didn’t know what he wanted from me. I’d rather that he railed at me for being stupid and useless than that he decide I could be exploited.” He smiled a wan smile at Crowley.</p><p>Crowley settled himself back down in Aziraphale’s arms. “Good. I’m glad.”</p><p>“Was it Raphael?” Aziraphale asked. “Was it Raphael who hurt you?”</p><p>“Nah...It wasss Adam.”</p><p>“Adam?”</p><p>“I had another name, once,” Crowley said. The pain in his voice was choking. “I wasss Iblisss.”</p><p>“Iblis? The petitioner?”</p><p>“I asssked quessstions.” Crowley shrugged. “People Fell for lessss...”</p><p>Aziraphale knew that was true. Apparently, Raphael lost his perfect student in a coin toss.</p><p>The crowned goddess holding a coin. Welcoming all who came.</p><p>A grove of apples in a region famous for apples.</p><p>Of course.</p><p>“But, I got sssent up to make trouble. It was easy,” Crowley continued. “The humans were babies. All I said wasss that I’d eaten of the fruit. That it didn’t make me sssick. And that it wasss deliciousss.”</p><p>“Adam and Eve believed that it was toxic!” Aziraphale said. “I told them that it was...”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Eve ate it. Then Adam did. That’s when he saw me. I was a new animal in the Garden, and he named me.”</p><p>“He named you?”</p><p>“You were in the Garden, angel. How does Adam name things?”</p><p>“He...oh!” Aziraphale flushed, but it was not shame. It was rage. “He Knew you.”</p><p>Crowley nodded, and more tears fell from his eyes. “I couldn’t stop him. I tried. Couldn’t get big or get small. Couldn’t bite him or anything. No miracles at all.”</p><p>“No miracles?”</p><p>“God, angel. God let him. God held me down, and let him!” Crowley gulped down a sob. “Adam just stuffed himself in me, and it HURT, angel. It hurt so bad!”</p><p>“My dearest. My poor sweet boy,” Aziraphale murmured. He stroked his hair, offering whatever comfort he had for a pain some six thousand years old.</p><p>“ADAM named me Crawly. After he was done with me, he threw me down and said, ‘You crawl. You Crawly.’” He rubbed his face in Aziraphale’s chest. Trying to hide. Aziraphale held him tightly. “Nobody remembered me as Iblis. Not after that. I was <em>stuck</em> as Crawly.”</p><p>“But...Adam had eaten of the fruit. He knew right from wrong,” Aziraphale said. “He still chose to do evil.”</p><p>“He was made of shit, angel,” Crowley said. “Literally. God used clay from the Garden Angels’ latrine.”</p><p>“Oh. Oh no. That would mean that he was made of...my leavings?”</p><p>“All the Garden Angels used that latrine, but yeah. Maybe. Probably.” Crowley sighed. “I Fell because I told God that the materials were bad. Spent too much time around Lucifer, I guess. Thought She might actually value some constructive criticism.”</p><p>“Oh, my beautiful boy. My sweet, dear Crowley,” Aziraphale said, drawing Crowley up by his chin. “You held all that in because you thought it would change how I feel about you?”</p><p>“Yeah...”</p><p>“Maybe other angels are like that, petty and heartless,” Aziraphale said. “But, Crowley, I could never love you less. Nothing could ever make me love you less.”</p><p>Crowley wept. A storm broke in him, and the tears followed. The sun was setting, and the golden light bathed Crowley’s hair and skin, and his tears sparkled like amber on his face. Aziraphale held him and hummed. It was the lullaby that Nanny Ashtoreth had sung to Warlock, ages ago. Crowley had invented it, and Aziraphale liked it very much.</p><p>When the song had finished, and Crowley had sobbed out the worst of it, Aziraphale spoke again.</p><p>“This will never happen to you again,” he said. “Crowley, I am your sword and your shield. The enemies that you face, I face by your side. My arms shall be your shelter and your strength. My love shall be your comfort, and you shall never want. For all of the things that you need, I shall provide. For as long as there is strength in this body, it is yours, my love.”</p><p>“That...that was lovely, angel. What’s it from?”</p><p>“It’s something...I wanted to say, for some time. Part of it...is from the oath that Principalities take when we’re charged with the defense of our things. The rest...I wrote it myself. Vows, you see?”</p><p>“Vows?”</p><p>“Vows. I have a ring as well.”</p><p>He reached behind Crowley’s ear and withdrew his fist. He opened his hand and there it was. Crowley’s ring, carved with a word. A blasphemous word from an ancient language. The best translation was, “the one that I hold higher than God.”</p><p>“You’ve gotten better at that...”</p><p>“I’ve been practicing, my dear.”</p><p>He slipped Crowley’s ring on his finger. His ring finger, where the nerves were supposed to run directly to the heart. (That was rubbish, of course, but the sentiment was beautiful.)</p><p>“That says...” Crowley began.</p><p>“It does,” Aziraphale confirmed. “I thought you’d look lovely in a white dress, with all of our nears and dears watching, but...” Aziraphale paused. “But this is better, isn’t it, dearest? In just our own skin, and the setting sun to witness?”</p><p>Crowley’s mouth was on his, a striking snake, and that was answer enough. Aziraphale’s hands drifted over Crowley’s precious body, eliciting the moans and hisses that he wanted.</p><p>He touched Crowley’s cheek, and Crowley's hand laid over his. Aziraphale paused, admiring how the gold of the ring matched the gold of his eyes in the setting sun.</p><p>And then he turned, an efficient move, rolling over on top of Crowley. He finished right where he wanted to be, between Crowley’s legs. His mouth lowered to his beloved’s, enjoying the sweet aftertaste of rice wine and a fantastically delicious <em>ramen</em> bowl.</p><p>And Crowley. That undefinable taste of his mouth. A taste that would linger after the kiss. Aziraphale broke the kiss and cast the duvet and sheets down, kneeling up over Crowley.</p><p>Crowley watched him eagerly, but he wasn’t wiggling. He wasn’t in need of a hand on his chest to keep him firmly in place.</p><p>Aziraphale stared down at him, taking in his beauty, reaching down and sliding a finger over the lips of his Effort, pausing at his swelling clit. Crowley moaned at his touch, but didn’t flail, didn’t writhe away as he usually did.</p><p>Aziraphale wondered if it was Crowley’s confession of his previous pain, or Aziraphale’s vows that healed the snake’s nearly constant nervousness.</p><p>“Married, then?” he asked Crowley.</p><p>“Yesss.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>He lowered himself between Crowley’s legs and dipped his head. His hands went to Crowley’s hips, and pulled him closer. He laid a series of soft kisses around Crowley’s Effort, over the mons, and on the inner thighs. Down below, to the parts of his ass that he could reach, before using his tongue to part Crowley’s lips from hole to clit.</p><p>He felt Crowley clench the sheets in his hands. Aziraphale was getting bolder, and Crowley tended to have problems with volume control in the throes of his passion. Aziraphale put up the necessary miracles to keep people from listening in. Specific people. Their neighbors and the staff. Those people.</p><p>Then he began to work Crowley in earnest, drawing the deep, loud, throaty moans that Aziraphale could feel resonate within his soul. He wanted to love his demon into nothing but those bone-quaking moans.</p><p>He ate slowly, as he always did, and it was just past twilight when he knelt over Crowley and drove inside. When the only sound that Crowley had left was the first syllable of Aziraphale’s name. And his cries, of course. The weak cries of a body already spent and being pushed past all reason.</p><p>Fireworks exploded as Aziraphale thrust into Crowley.</p><p>Literally, as it was the end of the evening for the Sakura Festival.</p><p>Crowley’s legs wrapped around him, and he held Aziraphale like the snake that he was. Aziraphale thought that he might want to be closer, even. Closer than skin would allow. To mate as angels did, according to Milton. Like air with air. Essence with essence.</p><p>But Aziraphale wanted flesh and blood and bone. He wanted to touch, to feel, to be right where he was. Between Crowley’s legs, deep inside him. The most sacred place that he’d ever known.</p><p>Crowley’s clit began to withdraw, and Aziraphale pressed his thumb harder into it, riding him harder as he started to sob. The dear boy climaxed around Aziraphale, begging for the release even as it crashed around him. Aziraphale kept pounding into him, urged on by the delicious feeling of Crowley squeezing him. Urged on by Crowley’s cries. He slammed deep inside, the pain at the base of his spine flaring and the climax breaking over him. He lowered his lips to Crowley’s, and whispered into his mouth, in the dark of evening, how beautiful he was, and how perfect.</p><p>Crowley returned his kisses, but it was obvious to Aziraphale that he was not long for consciousness. He used the necessary miracles to clean their skin, the bed. To empty their bladders and pull the duvet and sheets over them.</p><p>It got cold at night here. Very cold.</p><p>Crowley was drowsing. “Love you, angel.”</p><p>“I love you, too. My beautiful husband.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For Asanogohan222, who liked the last chapter and is tragically ungifted with anything. Hope you like it, dear!</p><p>The Air B-n-Beez joke is my girlfriend's. She keeps me in stitches, and sometimes I can gift you all with her brilliance.</p><p>Beelzebub's shrine is fictitious, but Aomori Province is actually super famous for their apples and they do have a pronounced (for Japan) Western presence in their art and architecture.</p><p>Also, fun fact--when missionaries attempted to teach the Japanese about Jesus, they took the crosses that they were given and hung them up alongside all of their other religious icons. They did not worship Christ above nor below any of their local gods and goddesses, nor their ancestors. This gave the missionaries conniptions, and continues to hobble the Church in Japan today.</p><p>It also led to the cancellation of a really cute anime called Haunted Junction, which followed the adventures of a minister's son, a Buddhist priest, and a Shinto priestess as they dealt with their very haunted secondary school. (I highly recommend this show, if you're not familiar.)</p><p>So, while I made up The Goddess of the High Hall (which, very fortuitously for me, happened to shorten down to Goddess of the Flies), the shrine of a local goddess could easily look like a Western mission in that part of Japan.</p><p>It's something that could exist.</p><p>And Shinto would make it easy for an angel and a demon (or an Archangel and a Demon Prince) to travel, as everything is consecrated and holy, but not to God nor Satan.</p><p>Not a note, per se, but I'm really proud of Aziraphale's vows. I roleplayed out that scene with my GF, and those are the words that came to me. (I play Aziraphale and she plays Crowley, when we're working something out.)</p><p>I just crossed 55k words on this series. I haven't told her yet, but I know she's going to laugh at me.</p><p>She's very supportive, y'all. (This was supposed to be a 2.5k one shot, then a 15k series, and whelp...)</p><p>Kitten update: we foster failed for Reznor and Weasley. Reznor appears to have a mildly dysplasiatic hip, meaning that if he lands wrong after jumping off of things, he walks like Crowley until he feels better. His brother is really well bonded with him and the rest of the house, and looks like he's going to be a really big kitty, so we're keeping them both.</p><p>(We kept cats that looked like they were going to be over-big before. Our eldest bobcat mix was 25 lbs at his heaviest, and he lived to be 17 years old. Our smaller bobcat mixes--Dingus and Nazgul--are just over and just under 20 lbs. Our smallest cat is ~8 lbs, and most of them are over 12 lbs. Not fat, just big kitties.)</p><p>We've got 11 cats now, before anybody asks. Most are elderly and special needs. </p><p>Comments and kudos are lovely ways to let me know that you like what I'm doing. More IB in the next chapter, I promise. Concrit welcome!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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